FIRE

There exists a fire in each of us. The spark, the catalyst, the igniter being variable. For some, knowing what makes us light up is so obvious, so knowing. For others, lots of searching is required. Then there are those who happen upon it by random chance or accidental coincidence or fate. I feel as though I am a combination of these. Chemistry has been a fire in my life for so long, nearly 20yrs from the time I knew, just KNEW I had to do chemistry. This knowing only actualized itself a few years ago when I graduated college and stepped out into the 'real world'. Cliché as that sounds, it's true for me. Working in chemistry is very different than undergraduate research, very different than television shows (think CSI or NCIS), very different than the romanticized version I had constructed in my mind. Perhaps it's the job itself rather than the career that is really making me wonder whether or not this fire I felt was a quick burst, whether it was already smoldering when I happened up on it, or whether it just needs a little fanning.

And then there is a new kind of fire. The kind where I don't want to sit still, the kind where I NEED to get up and do something. The kind that begs me to throw caution to the wind. Eliminate all my practicalities and logical thoughts and just DO. Like never before I had that experience recently. I watched 'Encounter Point'. Perhaps described as a documentary about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, it tells of tales from a very personal level. By parents who've lost their children. By those held prisoner. By an array of people passively fighting for peace.

Jerusalem quite possibly is the religious center of Israel. Tzfat is the mystical center of the country. Tel Aviv is the international headquarters. But what of the other cities? Like Kiryat Shmona, toeing the northern border with Lebanon. Or S'derot, which recently has been subjected to near daily bombings. And this doesn't even bring into mind the Gaza Strip or the West Bank.

Personal background. When I was a kid, I knew Israel existed--I saw it on a map and had to memorize it's location for geography. I knew that's where Jews went. Frankly, it was just some other country. As my Jewish identity began to form and grow, I felt a stronger connection with this distant land, though my knowledge was minimal at best and disgraceful in the least. I thought the West Bank and Gaza Strip were the same thing--thinking West referred to that side of Israel. I didn't understand why the two sides were fighting. Couldn't they just straight up share? And if not live peacefully as neighbors, at least go 50/50 on the land?

I've had the privilege of going there twice now, returning each time with a different perspective. I remember very clearly last summer going to a settlement town (West Bank area because by that time all Jews had been moved out of Gaza). The drive to protect those parcels of land was stronger than anything I'd ever felt. Not being interested in American military, I found myself wondering how to join the IDF; realizing that I'm too old to do so as a woman (cut off is really 20yrs, and at 27, I'm practically ancient). Plus, military aims don't mesh so well with my non-aggressive approach.

People who make aliyah do so for very different reasons. Some go and label themselves as religious. They go because Israel is the homeland to the Jews and it's holy and they feel that is where they can live a Jewish life to the fullest. Others call themselves Zionists. They may never step foot in a synagogue and they will eat a bacon cheeseburger on Yom Kippur and they will be the first in line at the enlistment office to defend their country. I fall in between, as the two views I've presented are on the extreme sides of the spectrum.

I cannot deny that I feel more religiously inclined when there. Few things compare to praying at the Western Wall (Kotel). Jerusalem day in Jerusalem seems to pack more of a punch than when celebrated in Boulder. The other side of me felt such pride in those settlements. I felt grounded and ancient and home in a completely different way on those desert lands.

After seeing the aforementioned film, I was inspired to act on these feelings. Do we just sit around and talk about these things or do we do something about them? The practical side kicked in, at least momentarily. Long enough to question what would I do there? I'm a chemist by trade, not a journalist nor a peace talker nor a moderator. How can I fit into this puzzle? What right do I have to go there and introduce a Palestinian to an Israeli and say you two should get along (and in what language since my Arabic is non-existent and my Hebrew little better than pathetic)? What suffering have I endured that can even come close in comparison to them that would lend me any respect?
And yet, it is really only the practical (and financial) part of me which is preventing me from calling El Al and booking the next flight to Tel Aviv and taking a sheruit (taxi) to Nablus, Hebron, etc.

So this fire in me which started in December 2005, roared in the summer of 2007, is only growing more intense with each passing day. With each new book I read and each new movie I watch, the fire is stoked.